#samakro

She is technically not a high officer, but a Caregiver has some privileges on her ship, courtesy of her hard work. And Samarko doesn't feel like arguing right now…

"Since when do you worry about my health, Caregiver?" He turns back to the large window, puffing on his cig, letting the sweet poison calm his nerves.

"Since our last 'conversation'… Samakro." She rigidly responds, placing herself next to him, leaning on the sturdy metal fence with a sigh.

"You are correct. I'm sorry, Thalias. I need to relax since the trial." He sighs in turn, letting a long cloud of smoke escape from his mouth.

"… Me too." She admits, "I feel so guilty… I was of no help to him."

Silently, Samakros hands his death stick to Thalias. She considers it, first offended, frowning her brows at him, then thoughtful, and after a last second of hesitation, she takes it from him and takes a puff.

She immediately coughs out her lungs, making him grin slightly.

"It tastes horrible!"

"You'll be addicted in no time."

"It's not healthy…"

"No. No, it isn't." He crosses his arms on the fence, leaning forward, "Ressassing our regrets isn't healthy either. But sometimes we only have the sweet poisons left to keep going."

"What do you think about the sentence? Do you think it was… Fair?" She asks, her voice trembling before trying the stick again.

"Yes. And no." He admits, "He was looking at something like that for a long, long time. Yet his victory should have given him immunity."

She looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You wished they would not follow procedures and show preferential treatment? That would be a first."

"Not preferential treatment." He shakes his head, "But leniency. I agree that he should have been punished in a court-martial, but not to such a grave sentence. Not an exile…"

"I can't believe he is not here anymore… Che'ri cries at night, she asks where he is while sleeping."

"You told her the truth?"

"Yes. We owed her that, and to him too."

"Indeed."

Thalias coughs again, but less, and hugs herself, giving the cig back to Samakro. He crushes it on the fence and throws it in a nearby ashtray.

The breakroom is dim and empty at that hour, that's why he came here. And she knew where to find him.

"And do you cry?" He asks after a moment of silence.

"When she isn't looking. I cry at night in my bed." She admits, resting her chin on her crossed arms on the fence.

"Does it ease your pain?"

"For a moment. But it comes back eventually."

"I see."

She then surprises him, pressing her head on his shoulders in an unprecedented show of affection, yet. He returns the energy, circling her shoulders with his arm to hug her tight in the dark.

"Do you think… He will be okay?" She asks, gulping, tears right behind her eyes.

But she refuses to let them escape. Instead, she focuses on the stars' light. The same light their Senior-Captain will see too, if he ever look up.

Somehow, sharing stars with him brings her some comfort.

And Samakro is here, too.

With her.

Like he always was.

"I think he will, somehow. I think he will…"

And like she always will for him.